


He's a Dying Breed

by startwithsparks



Series: The Iron Price [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Implied Incest, Implied Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 00:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startwithsparks/pseuds/startwithsparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the follow-up to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/446196">Who Knows the End</a>, Asha returns to the Iron Islands to confront her uncle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's a Dying Breed

It had been months since her uncle returned to the Iron Islands with a gift and a proposal, both of which Asha refused with every cold drop of blood in her veins. While he treated her denial with an air of detachment, she knew that it was only a brief calm. Sure enough, Euron would take what he wanted by any means necessary, even if it meant that he had to exchange something less valuable to him for the Iron Throne. She left before she could discover his dealings in full, but word traveled quick among the sailors and pirates of the Islands and, before long, she learned her fate. It seemed if Euron couldn't have her, he would sell her to whoever benefited him the most, and Asha saw her twenty years of struggling to prove herself washed out with the tide.

Now she was further North than she ever wanted to find herself, much less for the second time in a year, trying to pick up the broken pieces of her shell of a brother. She'd lost her castle, been chased from the land she'd fought for and won, and her family was falling to pieces right in front of her. While she _could_ fight, her armies wouldn't survive this far inland, in the blistering cold, against men who lived and died for generations in the snow, and running wasn't the Ironborn way. That thought settled heavy on her shoulders, and though Asha wasn't accustomed to fighting when she wasn't certain she'd win, going home meant facing the fate her uncle handed her. In the end, it was Theon who convinced her to go back - who broke down and begged her in the middle of the night to take him home - and something desperate twisted inside her, forcing her to choose.

They had a long ride ahead of them, plenty of time for Asha to make the decisions she needed to make, and the important part was getting back to the sea before the icy North consumed them all. When she left Deepwood Motte, she had enough men to ward off anyone who might try to test them on the road, but now their numbers had dwindled so extensively that they had to travel by night and were on constant alert for an attack. Her brother rode behind her for the most part, his arms weak around her waist, as the memories of the warm autumn mist off the sea flooded her senses and filled her with regret. More than once she'd wondered if she had been too harsh with him and had forced him to make the rash decisions that drove him to this place, but she had thought she was doing what was best for him and, for a moment, she had been. There was no going back and fixing things now, for either of them; the only choice they had was to forge ahead and hope they could each mend the mistakes they'd made.

By the time they reached the shore, the weather had claimed two more of their party and another was nursing an infected wound he sustained in a wildling attack. She'd never known wildlings to stray this far south, but the men in the port said that they heard of their attacks more and more often. They fought with abandon, as if they had nothing to lose by dying. She'd fought men like that before, but always aboard a ship, where she knew where her feet landed and where her advantages lay, but here she felt even-handed at best and completely overwhelmed the rest of the time. Though she couldn't say they were safe now - there was never a secure passage anywhere on these ships - at least Asha knew where she stood, and she could rest her nerves for dealing with her uncle.

The shores of the Iron Isles were never more of a relief to her than they were when they finally broke over the horizon, though it gave her no more hope for her immediate future than she had before. She held her brother's bandaged hand as the ship skimmed the shore and finally made anchor, not knowing which one of them needed the other more in that moment. She saw her men ashore, watching them part ways with bodies hunched over in defeat. Victory had been in their hands for such a short time that it almost didn't seem worth it. This moment wouldn't last for the men of the North either, she knew, and their time would reach them much sooner.

Her decision hadn't been an easy one to make, but in the end she saw no other way. On the ship she'd heard whispers of Euron's plans, and that only strengthened her resolve to take what she wanted - not him, never him - but she wasn't going to let some child who'd never tasted saltwater in the back of their throat or blistered their hands on a sword take the throne from her. The Ironborn had been forced to bend their knee to the Targaryens once before and Asha wouldn't see it happen again. They deserved better than that, even if no one else thought so. It wasn't for her own gain that she made this decision, nor was it for her uncle - though she was sure she would have to suffer through his smugness regardless - it was for her people and for their perseverance, so they would grow stronger within themselves under the rule of someone who cared more about making them a united force again than they did about their own power. What did having power mean if you had nowhere to go back to?

The ride up to Pyke was longer than ever, and the enormous black sails of Euron's fleet blocked out the horizon, rippling in the wind. His banners flew high on the walls of the stronghold, everything reeking of his claim. Tension twist inside her, but Asha continued easily though the gates, the hooves of her horse clanging echoes of the cold stone. She dismounted with a clatter and strode, heavy-footed, towards the main hall. Throwing open the doors, she stopped to let them shudder closed behind her only when her gaze finally found him.

He sat at a long table, several other men gathered around it as well, his boots up on the corner of the table. He smirked at her, his one dark eye glimmering with satisfaction, and with no more than a raise of his hand dismissed the others. She didn't take her eyes from him as they left, and it was only when the doors closed again that she moved forward towards the table.

"We need to talk," she said, her voice tense.

Euron's smirk pulled tighter, "So we do. Sit," he canted his head so slightly towards a chair, "have a drink."

Asha tossed her pack on the table and slumped down in a chair, eying the jug of black wine before grabbing the one next to it and pouring a dented silver cup full to the rim. She'd need it. "I hear I have a husband now."

"A strategic bargain," he shrugged lightly.

"You're so generous," she sneered.

Euron reached for his own cup and leaned back in his chair. "You're not happy with your blossoming matrimony?" he asked. "I'm wounded, I thought it was a perfect match."

"You know damn well I'm not happy. You bought your way to that seat because you knew that you couldn't get there any other way."

"I also killed my way to the seat," he retorted, "let's not forget that. No one stands between me and what I want. How can you fault me?" He didn't care what she thought, Asha knew that; the question didn't need an answer so much as it required Asha to consider what she was doing there as well.

She clenched her jaw, "Undo it," she said simply.

"What's in it for me?"

Asha gripped her cup tight enough to bend the dent in the metal deeper, her gaze piercing. "I am."

The impassive expression on his face split across into a grin - not a smirk, but an inky blue _grin_ \- and he slowly leaned forward, the chair creaking under his movement. "So you accept my offer?"

"If you kill him and retract your invitation to bring that _thing_ and her beasts here, I'll accept your offer."

Euron rose, his hands on the table as he leaned over her, pressing Asha back into her chair and forcing her to dip her head back to stare up at him. "Seems like you have a wedding to plan."


End file.
